CaptainAkwardtotheruinnotrescue

Tales of a Highschool Nothing
2012-05-02 02:11:22 (UTC)

My My My, my my my, my my My.

I can never remember how my dreams start.
It's usually just the end.
It was a boy. One I hadn't known.
Woken with the sound of a gun. Loudest I've ever heard in my life.
And the words were whispered in my ear:
He killed himself.
I lie awake, thinking about this.
I was still half sleeping.
I couldn't process what was real and what was going on in my mind.
But i thought.
"This would be so easy. You wouldn't feel it, would you."
But you'd hear it.
I've never thought of how loud a gun shot is right up at your temple.
If I ever killed myself, which i wouldn't, despite what my sleepyhead mind told me, I never considered how efficient a gun would be.
I guess it wasn't a resource before.
When there's a gun right beside your parents bed, it's much different.
my step father bought this gun.
I like the golden bullets.
It's good he locked it up.
You don't know what some one like me with two separate minds in one head might do.
this is a problem for me.
Being scared of myself and also hating myself and also liking the person i want to be who inside of me; some where.
I couldn't kill myself.
No matter how many sides there are in me, there would always be one that was apposed, and that would be all the rest of me needed.
I need to see things.
and be in perspectives.
I need.
I need to see if I grow my hair out.
Or if i ever get loud at NUA.
Or get a first kiss.
Or become famous.
Or get into RISD.
Or spend a summer in Newport. Buy a Newport Sweater.
Miya has a newport sweater.
And if I did decide to kill myself i'd have to make all the art my little heart could give.
So that it was racked up in price and my family got rich. Because in this world, Artsist are only welcomed to fame if they die.
This is Not the Renaissance.




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